


Something To Look Forward To

by chinesebakery



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Academy Era, F/M, Pining, Prompt Fic, Sharing a Bed, Tumblr Prompt, What there's only one bed how is that possible
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-24
Updated: 2016-06-24
Packaged: 2018-07-18 01:01:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7293100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chinesebakery/pseuds/chinesebakery
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fitz dropped his duffel bag on the floor so he could focus all his energy on glaring at the offensively narrow excuse for a queen-size bed.</p>
<p>AKA the obligatory "oops, there's only one bed, whatever shall we do!?" ficlet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something To Look Forward To

**Author's Note:**

  * For [agentlemons](https://archiveofourown.org/users/agentlemons/gifts).



> Fitz_like_a_Jem's prompt was: "It's only one night, we'll just share the bed."  
> 

**10:44AM**

“It’s only one night, we’ll just share the bed.” Jemma’s smile didn’t quite reach her eyes, but her tone was as peppy as ever.

Fitz dropped his duffel bag on the floor so he could focus all his energy on glaring at the offensively narrow excuse for a queen-size.

“The only way we could share this one is by sleeping on top of each other,” he grumbled.

It took him about two seconds to fully realize what he’d just said, but close to a minute to regain the ability to form words. He’d just suggested –out loud– spending the night on top of Jemma Simmons. Or her on top of him. He couldn’t tell which was worse.

And now, he couldn’t unthink it. It was stuck in his head like a terrible commercial jingle, only it also gave him the urge to sit down and cross his legs. Or to stomp and holler and shake his fist at the ceiling.

Why did it keep happening? Fitz was a lurker, an observer. He’d spent a fair amount of time watching the other students closely, and he knew for a fact that none of them put their feet in their mouth as often as he did, or nearly as badly.

He peaked at Jemma, whose smile now seemed surgically pinned to the sides of her face.

“I mean–” The words caught in his throat. Damn, his ears were burning.

“I know what you mean, Fitz,” she said in the long-suffering tone he knew so well by now.

Fitz slumped into a nearby armchair.

They had a few hours left to kill before the conference, so at least he’d get to sample the hotel’s restaurant buffet. _Finally_ , some good news. He had no interest in going outside –it was a particularly warm Floridian morning, heavy with a moist heat that made the slightest movements feel like a workout.

Jemma hadn’t complained once, but her flowery blouse clung to her skin, and the few tendrils that had escaped her ponytail stuck to the back of her neck in an enticing way.

“You look hot,” he pointed conversationally, before his eyes widened for another round of shock and mortification. _Bloody hell._ Could he have unwittingly offended some ancient deity? Had the cosmos cursed him to a life of self-inflicted humiliations?

He couldn’t see her face, not with his eyes squeezed shut, but he heard her clear her throat as she retreated to the far corner of the room.

“Actually, I could use a shower,” she said, her voice forcefully cheery, before she all but ran and locked herself in the bathroom.

Fitz sank further into the armchair, torn between the conflicting impulses to berate his idiotic mouth and to make excuses for himself. After all, he was still technically a hormone-addled teenager, wasn’t he?

His embarrassing crush would come to pass, he was fairly confident of that. The issue was whether or not it would fade before he managed to make everything weird between them.

For now, he’d better concentrate on ignoring the fact that Jemma Simmons was standing naked on the other side of that very thin wall.

***

**11:23PM**

“You’re not sleeping on the floor, Fitz.” Jemma folded her arms over her chest, her brow furrowing. She couldn’t help but feel affronted. Was she really _that_ repulsive that he would risk a sleepless night and a stiff neck rather than spend a few hours in a perfectly adequate bed, just because she happened to be in it?

Sometimes, she worried she might have betrayed herself and her unruly crush on him. Was it what this was about? Did he think she would– what? Attempt to seduce him in the dead of night?

Not that she hadn’t thought about it.

For now, Fitz wouldn’t meet her eyes. “I don’t mind,” he insisted. “At least this way, only one of us will be uncomfortable.”

 _Oh, really?_ Jemma rolled her eyes. Nothing about this was comfortable. “I’m the one who has to deal with you when you’re tired and cranky. Believe me, that’s no fun. Come on.” She turned the cover and patted the mattress. “There’s more than enough room for the both of us.”

He huffed a long, world-weary sigh before he grudgingly joined her.

Their relationship was so confusing. Sometimes, she couldn’t tell for sure if he even liked her, or only tolerated her for her skills. But then he would look at her in a way that hit her straight in the stomach. Her own feelings were a mess as well –they kept mutating from secret pining to straight-up irritation and back. It was _exhausting_.

Jemma didn’t know whether to take offense when he settled as far from her as the width of the bed would allow, turning ostensibly away.

But damn, he smelled good. His hair was still damp from the shower and she longed to comb through his wet curls with her fingers.

“Try not to stab me with your pointy elbows, alright?” he grunted, disrupting her train of thoughts.

“I’ll do my very best,” she replied, rolling her eyes to the back of his neck.

***

**0:37AM**

He should never have agreed to share that damn bed. At least if he’d stayed on the floor, he would have had a chance to catch a wink of shut-eye. But there was no way he was ever going to fall asleep when she was so… _there_. All appealing curves and full mouth and stray strands of hair tickling his nose whenever he turned her way.

It was _torture_.

He’d never had a crush like this one. Hell, he’d never had a proper crush before her. It wasn’t that surprising considering he’d graduated from high school two months before his 13th birthday, and spent the next few years in the company of PhD students a decade and a half older than he was.

No wonder he was so completely incompetent at flirting.

He wasn’t delusional, though. Even if he became the smoothest of cadets overnight, she would never think about him _that way_.

It wasn’t so bad. Since they’d hit it off, he’d seen a few of her boyfriends come and go, while he secured his place as best friend, partner and confident. It was fine, really. Everything was fine. 

Still, his mind wandered.

***

**1:52AM**

“Are you asleep?”

 _Not even close_ , Jemma mournfully thought. He’d been tossing and turning for a long time now, enough that she’d been considering kicking him out to the floor for a solid hour. The idea of tiring him out so he would _let her sleep already_ may or may not have entered her mind.

“I’m glad to have you as my friend,” he muttered in the dark, after she failed to reply. Her heart grew up three sizes.

So what if he wasn’t attracted to her. Whatever they had going still felt pretty special.

***

**6h14AM**

They were all wrapped up around each other and there was no telling who had started it. Fitz was almost certain it was literally the closest he’d been to another human being –even more so, a female human being– since childhood, and his heart was pounding so hard, he was worried the sound would wake her up. More embarrassingly still, his body was waking up –fast.

He tried every calming thought known to man, but they were helpless against her knee resting on top of his thigh. She felt so  _warm_.

“Jemma. Jemma, wake up.”

“Mmh.” She only tightened her grip.

“I need to go to the bathroom,” he announced, and gently disentangled from her, trying not to notice the texture of her skin, or any other shocking fact about Jemma Simmons’ body, as he made his escape.  
  
She was his best friend, he reminded himself as the spray of shower hit his face. He’d do well to remember it before he truly messed things up. He had to work harder at getting over it, for the good of their relationship. it could be done. People successfully stopped longing for each other all the time.  
  
The thought was oddly depressing.

Good thing there was a breakfast buffet to look forward to.


End file.
